The Well: A Dip Into Halcyon History
by Kenshin1340
Summary: This story delves into my interpretation of the history of the Halcyon Fold and its surrounding countries and locations. Some of it is regular fiction while other parts are mimicked history books detailing the events of the past. I am not an official lore writer for SEMC. SugarVenom has other wonderful and official lore that you should check out. Note: post Vox/Celeste skin-lore.
1. CH 1

"Vox, Celeste; time for bed!" Their father's voice echoed gently down the hallway.

"COMING!" Vox sprinted around the corner, his voice rattling the dishes far over in the kitchen. Ardan nabbed him by the collar before he could make it past him and held the other hand up to his mouth.

"Inside voice, Vox." The crestfallen boy nodded solemnly; his father chuckled and set him gently back into his run to bed. His twin sister Celeste came around the corner gingerly and slowly, dabbing at the towel encasing her flowing locks with glowing, purple hands. Ardan shook his head and pointed to his daughter's head.

"What did I say about using magic in the house?" The glow faded and the celestial girl hung her head, beginning her walk around the corner as well.

Even before she was visible, another presence became apparent to her husband. Her twinkling laughter slipped around the corner and reached Ardan before she did, her arms wrapping around his cotton-clad torso and calves lightly straining to indirectly lift her chin to rest upon Ardan's shoulder.

"Always such a hard-ass, love. They're _learning_." Ardan sighed in tune with his wife's hum as he turned around to rest his hand beneath her chin.

"It's a good thing they have such a kind and loving teacher." Ardan leaned in and closed his eyes before being violently shoved into the wall in sync with hearing a sudden "ew, gross" and "shut up, Vox!" come from behind him.

Ardan looked over from his forced lean against the wall to see Celeste and Vox hovering from clenched, phantasmal hands; their red glow tracing back into a pair of outstretched arms. Glancing back towards his wife yielded a view of fury incarnate; her eyes and hands glowed a dangerous crimson while her hair hovered like it was a comic still given life. Even so, a slight tinge of embarrassment softened the edges of rage.

"Julia." Ardan got a slight head turn in response before all of the anger seemed to drain out with a sigh; her golden hair hit her back as her children hit the floor and her eyes shifted back into their usual sea-green shade.

"Get in bed. Now." A pair of voices echoed "yes mom" to fanfare the children's defeated march into their bedroom, Vox lagging slightly behind his sister.

"I'll go get the book." Ardan nodded and glanced over to his son who was looking up from underneath his hair. Ardan glanced behind his shoulder and turned back with a grin; his son shared the smile and in turn, both were met with a sharp, invisible knock upside the head.

"Vox. Bed. Ardan. Kitchen. **Now.** " Vox shuffled away quickly while his father turned back around slowly, rubbing his head as he walked in on his wife angrily shuffling through the cabinets in the adjacent living room, mumbling to herself.

"Ten years; ten years of that child talking and he's done nothing but get himself in trouble with that loud mouth of his." Ardan barely suppressed a chuckle before instinctively raising a hand behind his head, blocking the blow before it landed. Julia looked up and glared red daggers before resuming her search.

 _Some things never change..._

"Sweetie, fourth drawer from the left cabinet. Under the receipt box." Julia honed in on the proper drawer, pulling an old, leather-bound book out from underneath a now-spilled box of white and yellow paper. The leather had faint symbols inscribed upon its front, but the lettering upon the side was clear, albeit shorthand.

 **HMRTS-TCH-MGE-WR, 1-1**

"Thank you. Now can we get them to sleep? I'm especially tired today." Ardan chuckled again as he wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders as they walked.

"If they fall asleep before I do, I'll give you a massage before bed?" Julia glanced up with a smirk and a determined look set deep into her gaze. She stole back her interrupted kiss before she increased her pace, leaving her husband behind. Quickly entering the room, she kissed both of her children on the forehead before sitting in the rocking chair in the corner and crinkling open the old, slightly jaundiced pages of the book. Ardan paused at the doorway, shaking his head at his wife and taking in what his twins' room had developed into over the years…

On his right, the room was, well… Purple. Lots of purple. Constellations covered the ceiling and pin-up posters of famous actresses and singers filled the wall. The sheets were purple, the bed was a darker purple and the pillowcase was… surprise, surprise: another shade of purple. It gave off a sense of longing; longing for a world unknown or perhaps… undiscovered.

On his left was a much different story; the ceiling had a single pattern of silver concentric circles, but the wall was covered in a multitude of overlapping music artists' posters while various types of headphones hung from the headboard, a series of varied hats filling the floor near the foot of the bed. Adventure and excitement were surely never more than a step behind, with this one.

Sighing, Ardan closed the door behind him and plopped down on the floor next to his son's bed, leaning his head back onto a pillow he left with his son just for this occasion. Every week, the whole family would gather for their own sort of movie night, as Celeste had dubbed their get-togethers.

After Julia cleared her throat and took a deep breath, the room seemed to take on an electric charge, slowly building to the brim like a fountain slowly filling a cup. Her eyes began to glow a soothing, calm blue and her voice washed out over her lips like a stream trickling past smooth pebbles. The entire process put her listeners at ease; it never ceased to amaze her husband, especially. He and his children all closed their eyes in anticipation for the visceral, breath-taking experience that was Julia's "story _showing_ ", as Vox affectionately nicknamed it.

" _ **Once upon a time…**_ " And so they were lost to the magic of _history_.

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a legendary Mageborn known as Hamartius. Many loosely speculate that he was indeed the _first_ Mageborn, a human blessed with the power to tap into one's inner energies and manipulate the world around them. He was rumored to have lived for centuries, floating between kingdoms and advising various rulers on matters for years under various guises and names.

Texts dating back through these centuries and stories passed down through a multitude of generations make Hamartius out to be an ethereal being whose power was only exceeded marginally by the gods. In-fact, the further back you travel in history, the more likely it is to find a depiction of a glowing, golden God-like figure presiding over bowed heads. He shows up later in history as well; the closer to present-day the incidents are, the more likely they sound like the impact of an extraordinarily powerful Mageborn. Hamartius is often revered as _the_ most powerful Mageborn to have ever lived; some even call him the father of all Mageborn. Some sources think he discovered the secret to immortality and immense power when he was young while others think he simply learned to prolong his life and strength by absorbing the life force of others.

Some sources believe him evil incarnate with faith in the latter reasoning; kingdoms long peaceful often suddenly quested for wealth and power beyond their scope after a strange new advisor appeared. On other occasions, immensely successful kingdoms fell apart suddenly and seemingly without precedent; their kings and queens dying of various diseases unexpectedly.

Others still separated the evil accounts with the good, saying that those events were caused by an entirely different force of evil and malice. They believe that Hamartius was actually the force of good set to balance it with acts of kindness, generosity; healing the sick in times of catastrophic plague, feeding the hungry in times of never-ending famine.

History does completely agree on one thing, though; Hamartius' last known kingdom of influence was a sprawling city-state located in the same place as modern-day Gythia. The location was a prime location for a city to grow and thrive while defending itself from enemies; sheer cliffs to the ocean surrounded it on three sides and the perfectly intact ruins of an old, massive wall had been built upon to create the current, famed Gythian Wall that protected the modern people from outsiders.

Nearby, a massive mountain was discovered to have been carved out _by hand_ to create a multi-level food-production system. An intricate system of indoor tiered-farming far, _far_ beyond its time filled the caverns from base to summit and tunnels only recently discovered connected the inner city and the mountain-farm, suggesting it could hold its own against sieges almost indefinitely.

Speculation from other historical texts dug up from beneath Gythia depict Hamartius as somewhat old during this era; in images, he is often standing next to a golden figure interpreted to be their king in an advisor-like, secondary position. The same modern texts who reference this era also note the shifts in his behavior over the past, cross-referencing other texts that show the spikes of "evil" and malicious, fire-throwing Hamartius appearing further back in the past while the "good" and benevolent, miracle-delivering Hamartius appearing closer to his time spent in "old" Gythia.

Gythian myths surrounding the reason the previous civilization fell, however, heavily implicate a gigantic "explosion" of sorts that suddenly froze the entire city solid. The lands beyond the wall remained lush and green, but the insides of the walls were frozen to the core; citizens were mostly in the process of going about life upon being stopped in time. The myths continue, saying that a man with a description similar and contemporary to Hamartius made the trek up to the top of the mountain desiring more than the paradise that was old Gythia.

Even today, the Gythians believe that a legendary well named Agradável lay hidden at the top of the same mountain; that its waters do not freeze and are purer than a newborn's soul. The legend continues by saying that those who manage to transcend their "limits" are the ones worthy to drink its waters; waters that grant the wish most desired within any human's heart.

What the myth and legend both fail to mention is their connection with one another; accounts from worker's journals from inside of the farm have tales of both seeing and hearing strange occurrences. Workers who checked on the snowmelt passages reported seeing an old man covered in frost from beard to cloak; workers from the inside reported extremely loud bursts of shouting going on about "limits" and "consequences" and "truth". The top floor workers report these recordings earlier and much more frequently than the penultimate floor; by the time the antepenultimate workers begin to write, it seems the final blast had already set in. All of the workers reported colder temperatures beginning at the same time as the top floor first reported the noises. One of the workers from the antepenultimate floor was found frozen with a quill still in hand.

(Hamartius and the Techmaturgy-Mageborn Wars, ed.1, vol.01)

NEXT ABSTRACT: Areas previously located where history dictated Hamartius to have done good deeds are most commonly ruled and inhabited by a large majority of Mageborn. Areas where Hamartius had inflicted terrible calamity often developed into a technologically-dependent state devoid of Mageborn influence.

* * *

Julia snapped the book shut as she spoke the final words to punctuate the rise and fall of Vox's symphony of snores. Ardan's eyes blinked open; standing up, he grabbed the headphones hanging on the left and gently set them around Celeste's head. Looking over at his wife, Ardan nodded and the two walked out of the room before shutting the door.

Julia looked her husband up and down expectantly, frowning when all she received was a raised eyebrow.

"So… About that massage?" Ardan's deep chuckle provided a bass line to the melody of his wife's melodious laughter as their song softly sang deep into the night.

* * *

 **A/N: So that's it for now. Maybe more to come. Thank you for reading!**

 **This story assumes Grangor land is on the exact opposite side of the mountain that's to the north of Gythia in the one map I'm provided with from the NS Taka lore. This allows for (REDACTED)'s lore to fit. I work with what I have!**


	2. CH 2

"They call us the _tekkies_ and them capital, city folk the _magias._ That's how it's been for years; high-fallutin' city folk with their magic and us rural workers gettin' by with our smarts in puttin' stuff together, ya hear?"

Kestrel nodded politely. _No sense in correcting facts or grammar out here…_

"Now, it wasn't always like this. There were good times, back before ord'nace 76 came around…" Kestrel sighed internally as her cheery, interested face wavered slightly in preparation for the lecture she'd have to sit through in order to get any intel from the old man. Looking left, Kestrel glanced down at the smaller of their odd pair, leaned against Kestrel's shoulder, keeping watch under a pretend gaze of boredom out across the open-aired bar. It often worked out that Daisy was small enough to pass as a much younger sister or daughter; this was the third small town they'd passed through and so far, people had more sympathy for a single mother with a young daughter travelling in hardship.

"Ordinance 76?" Kestrel winced; she'd have to soften her strong, poignant city accent if she was to maintain her guise as a wandering mother…

 _An awfully weak alias as far as I'm concerned… But it works. What do the tekkies say, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it?" Yes. That one._

"I'm surprised you dunno what it is, seeing as _eres de la ciudad, ¿no?_ " Kestrel's eyes opened wide in panic to the sudden shift in his voice and a hand slid to the knife holstered at her hip. A wave crashed into the shoreline outside as the old man half-stood and reached his hand palm out towards the frightened archer, his eyes alight with a vigor that his frame seemed to have lost years ago.

"Shh, don't nobody care who you are or where you from out here, long as you don't cause no trouble." Another wave came in quietly as the old man sat back down, a yawn spreading from his mouth and settling into his body.

"Do you need a place ta stay, miss…" Kestrel was barely relaxed enough to acknowledge his cue; a tight grasp from the arm looped around hers reminded her to answer incorrectly.

"Kes-Ka-Karen. My name is Karen." The old man raised an eyebrow but made no mention of her stuttering and motioned to stand.

"And your daughter's?" Daisy turned and stood with a child-like burst of enthusiasm and eagerly motioned herself around.

 _Overdoing it._

"I'm Diana. Nice to meet you!" She stuck out her hand to match the old man's and a smile graced even Kestrel's face as the duo came to their first, seemingly genuine interaction with another human being in three weeks.

" _Que bellisima, su hija_." The old man's skin crinkled at the edges as he smiled and grabbed his cane from beside him.

"Well, come now. My place isn't far and I have a spare room that's been empty ever since…" He turned and grabbed his hat as he walked out and declined to finish his sentence. Kestrel and Daisy shared a look before briskly pacing after the man who, for all appearances, set a relatively uptempo pace towards his home.

"See you tomorrow, _jefe_!" The bartender's call behind them prompted the old man to wave and keep walking. Another wave crashed like distant thunder as the two ex-Stormguard shared another look before walking on, draped in an uncomfortable silence.

* * *

 **Ordinance 76: The Beginning of the Tech-maturgy Wars**

Ordinance 76 was the large, signaling event of the tech-maturge split; techmaturgy meaning the synergy of "tech" and "magic" use.

Two years prior to the ordinance's implementation, a horrible respiratory disease struck a majority of the population in the continent's major cities. There had always been a minor disparity between those who were Mageborn and those who weren't, but the disease spread much more rapidly amongst those who were "lowborn" and the Mageborn who did become infected could be cured by the healers. Many documented cases of magical healing attempts on lowborn resulted in severe loss of mental faculties and physical ability. In other cases, what was a simple procedure on a Mageborn instead resulted in death for enough lowborn for many to start to believe the former was "superior" to the latter.

Cases of the disease were much less severe and less frequent out in rural areas, so many lowborn took their trade skills and took to the hills, populating areas near Gythia and Mont Lille. The root cause of the disease is still unknown, but the main and primary symptom of the disease was a gradual lessening in respiratory function until the afflicted died of suffocation over the course of three to four days. The minor side-effect was a whitening of the face, now attributed to a lack of proper oxygen flow to the brain in those afflicted. This flow issue halted the brain's safety mechanisms in dealing with the disease, nicknamed the Ghost's Touch in the early years. In retrospect, it is often referred to as TGT or O76 as a reference to the (final) ordinance to come about.

After the first wave of panic and subsequent exodus, a "high-class" lowborn by the name of Francisco Maldonado invented and quickly reproduced a respirator-like mask that could stall the disease in its tracks; the earlier the mask got to an afflicted patient, the better the long-term chances were for survivability and quality of life. The mask pointed out two crucial flaws, however; primarily, the disease was incurable. Those afflicted and forced to wear a mask to live were almost immediately subjugated and tasked to fill the jobs that the exodus had left open; if they had no way to get infected further, they were invaluable to the ruling class.

The second and perhaps more major issue (brought about in a debate by one of the last senators to hold power, Adrian Florenz) was that the mask implied the inception and spread of the disease was somehow in (the air of) the cities. After a few months of diaspora, many relatives who had moved out of the cities reported a number of positive qualities attributed to the location.

A (small) number of masks had been taken with some of the last migrants.

Many of the migrants who had been infected showed signs of partial recovery, similar to the effects of the masks in the cities.

When masks were used by infected migrants, their recovery was boosted almost to completion. Many non-infected migrants began replicating and utilizing the masks to improve their quality of life.

Many migrants began a trend of painting their masks with a diagonal red stripe to symbolize their parting with the disease (and later, with the _magias_ ).

The symbols made their way into cities (notably, Mont Lille) within a year of patient zero and quickly became a rallying cry against the treatment from the suddenly intolerant Mageborn. Within six months of this symbolic propagation, an "official" resistance sprouted up among some of the more noteworthy, dissent-spreading figures of the lowborn class. One of the younger members, Ardan REDACTED, became relevant in the "second" rebellion but at this time he was simply a basic resistance member with no real influence or power.

It is at this time that the previous Queen (note, the youngest queen to ever gain power in Mont Lille), Julia Stormcrown, reportedly became infected with TGT. It is said that she refused "proper" (Bourbon-Anjou, 57) treatment, used a mask like the lowborn despite being Mageborn and decided to walk the streets in an attempt to repair her city.

Within four months, the situation was improving slowly but surely and on the surface, everything appeared to be calm and on the rise.

Julia's mask was found marked with a red, crossed line (reportedly the incorrect diagonal) and hung from the palace flag-post in a grand ceremony by the (later known as only the Storm Queen) rightful successor, Joanna Castille. Scholars suspect she had been planning to overthrow Queen Julia for years and simply seized power in the chaos that was the spread of TGT.

Ardan comes back into play here; he and a few other resistance members helped to guide the Queen to the outer limits of the city; it is reported that they fell in love at some point throughout these months. Ardan and Julia were not reported found until years later in the events that culminated in the public assassination of the Storm Queen.

Ordinance 76 banned all symbol-marked masks and was the final reason for the aptly named O76 Massacre which resulted in the death of 7-10% (amongst even reputable sources, numbers vary) and the exodus of about 75% of the lowborn in the city. The rest simply became slaves bound by advanced magic, turning them into tireless automatons in exchange for "their loyalty to the state" (Zurita, 77) according to the Storm Queen. Scholars instead believe it was simply an example for the rebels; similar to old, dated customs of leaving heads on pikes at the entrances of cities.

After the mass exodus, a number of privately-run businesses by some of the high-class lowborn and lowborn-sympathizing Mageborn were shut down; a factory discovered years later in the northeast quadrant of Mont Lille run by an opposing force to Inigo Maldonado(note: the mask's primary inventor's brother) is rumored to be the cause of patient zero to TGT but evidence is scarce due to an apparent arson. Very few cases show up as reported after the O76 exodus; some Mageborn use this as further evidence to "justify the lowborn's true nature" (Calabria, 64). Pathology experts note however that there were simply less possible infection cases and since TGT did not infect genetically (note: 95% of the Storm Queen's fabled "Stormguard" were actually born out of this era) the bellcurve of infections was simply due to decline at around this point.

 _Abstract, next: The Storm Queen's Rise, Reign and Demise._ _The factors contributing to the Storm Queen's successes and failures will be discussed next._

(Hamartius and the Techmaturgy-Mageborn Wars, ed.6, vol.23)


End file.
